Hey everyone! Sorry it's been so long with updating this one, I've been busy pursuing other things. It seems like when ever I get an idea for a story I write it for awhile then I get writer's block, so I write another one. It's just an annoying viscous cycle, and I hate it. But hey, what can I do about it? It's the way my strange mind works.

I just looked at the stats for this story today, and I was blown away. I'm really sorry for not updating sooner; I never knew so many people were watching this story. Anyway I thank you for your patience.

This chapter is going to focus more on the Huddy-ness. I think it's the best chapter yet. I may redo the others later. Go Huddy! Because, let's face it, this ship rocks.

Chapter 8

Cuddy paced for hours around his apartment, pretending to be occupied with something, but she couldn't help but glance up at the man every five minutes. His face was beginning to pale and he was already drenched in sweat.

"Why him?" was the only thought that kept slipping through her mind. She batted a tear away and looked up to the ceiling "Please, someone, stop this torture."

When she looked back at him once more, he had somehow managed to doze off sitting awkwardly on the couch. She didn't want to move him, didn't want to deprive him of the little sleep that he was going to get through out this. So she grabbed a book off of the piano and sat in the black armchair across from the couch, ready to be there in a moment's notice if he needed her.

House couldn't escape his life, not even in his dreams. His thoughts of finding a quick way out of here then filtered into the faces of all the people he would hurt if he was gone.

"Please stop" he mumbled dazed with sleep and plagued with his overactive mind,

Cuddy walked over to the couch to try and figure out what he was talking about.

The barrage of thoughts continued. Trailing over all the people he's pushed away over the years, the lives he's managed to save, his parents, and exactly what he didn't want to be reminded of now, Stacy. He saw himself lying in the hospital bed at the time of the infarction after being put out and Stacy signing her wish to betray him, and ultimately cripple him for life. The dream continued on like a slideshow with no end, he had to stop it, break the chain. Somehow he was rendered helpless in a battle inside his head.

"Just go away!" He screamed out loudly. Cuddy became worried; she shook him gently by his shoulders to get him to wake up.

"House!" she demanded "Wake up" she shook slightly harder this time, and his eyes flipped open and he was completely disoriented and breathing heavily. Cuddy gave a slight sigh of relief, at least he was awake.

"House, you're okay. You're at your apartment. Everything's going to be fine." She moved closer and embraced him, just trying to let him that some one was there to be strong when he wasn't, to be there when his defenses fell, some one to actually care for him. She felt his tense muscles relax slightly beneath her fingertips as he regained his bearings.

"Thanks" came the whispered and muffled reply.

"Anytime" Cuddy released him from the embrace, and once again had to fight back tears. This was not going to be and easy battle.

"Want to go to your bed? My guess is it's more comfortable than this lumpy couch." He hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I'm not sure I can make it" He dropped his gaze to the floor, immediately regretting having told her.

"I'll give you a hand. I'm sure the couch isn't the best thing for your leg." She held out he hands for him. He slowly took them, rising stiffly and painfully. Cuddy stepped in place of his cane on his right side, letting him lean his full weight into her. "One step at a time, no rush" she encouraged him as they made their lopsided path down the hall. Once into the bedroom, it took all he had just to keep from collapsing right there. Cuddy lowered him into the sheets and settled him in.

"No matter what happen, no matter how much you try to push me away, you'll always have me." She ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and gave him a small sweet kiss on his forehead. "I know how stubborn-willed you are. But even the best of us fall sometimes." With that she left, closing the door behind her but leaving it open a crack so that she could hear him if he yelled.

His mind was reeling by now, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't let his brain's freak show replay it self. He had enough memory of his ill-spent live every day, how much more did he need to be reminded? He couldn't have helped but wondered if the kiss meant something, if anything at all. Could this be anything different between them? What did she mean by "even the best of us fall"? The only thing he wished different about this was the situation. He didn't want her to see him this way, in a particularly sunken and vulnerable state. Weakness was one of the qualities he never allowed anyone to seen in him.

"Just stop!" he whispered to himself, trying to block off the floodgate of thoughts.

"Just…stop" he drew out, wiping a small tear from his tired eyes.

"Just go away." He mumbled out once more, slowly calming his mind enough to let him fall into a fitful sleep.